Out of the deep ocean, in a flimsy boat, the ancient fisherman awaited his adversary. It would be the final confrontation, a battle to the death. Perhaps that is the reason instead of casting a net, he wielded a sword. Its weight is a bit heavier than usual in its sheath. He only unsheathed karma (the name of his sword) to kill the deep monsters of the sea and rarely a human. It was even harder to wield it today because the one he could be pointing it at this night hadn't always been an enemy but a brother. Even without the ties of blood, he was once a soul friend.
The water under the boat hummed with deviance and distaste. Its hostility was directed at the man blocking their view of the moon. The dim light from the full moon reflected the surface of the dark water like a thousand shards of glass, making the scene more ethereal, a great contrast to the creatures it harbored. Although Tasuki stood on the veil between the cleansed and the uncleansed. He could still feel their eyes on him, and his body shook with rage. Even so, he didn't let his guard down. He stood with his back straight, his wide shoulder as stiff as a board, his ears perked to perceive even the littlest movement or wave change.
It hadn't always been like this.
Satu's waters hadn't always been monstrous. The land where he had dwelt since he was a child was the land of many waters. Its head touched the waters in the north, and it spread its arms and touched the waters in the sky in the east and west. The waters spread so wide that no boat had ventured into the south. Nobody quite knew what the feet of Satu waters touched in the south.
Satu, land of many waters, had been blessed for centuries.
It was surrounded by water on all four sides. Small islands surrounded Satu like a mother to her kids. They all belonged to Satu. Upon one of the small islands in the south of Satu, Tasuki had been born in a fisherman's household. His father, Baru, was not the richest on his island, but he owned three boats. Fishing, after all, was the livelihood of Satu. He remembered the first time he had learned to hold his breath in a stick of incense while underwater, his father had made a feast for him with the biggest okara(a type of fish). Every child born of Satu knew how to swim, and it was the greatest shame to a father for a son not to know how to swim. The first time he caught his first okara, his father had been beside himself and gifted him the tooth of the great whale that sat in the middle of his chest.
Satu had sat in peace for many decades, and it flourished under the rule of Chief Rafumo. It was said that in his prime, and ran to become chief against his brother Safumo, he had killed two fierce whales and bestowed upon himself the title of the greatest chief of Satu. Under his powerful and prideful rule, Satu had been peaceful and prosperous. But that was two decades ago. Long before, when people went into the sea to fish and swim, and not to die. Now it just seemed like a distant memory because what had followed had shaken the very foundation of
Satu. The peace that had been a luxury and had been torn and shattered in the blink of an eye. The screams of terror of that day had torn through the very veil of existence. Tasuki was only seven full seasons old when it happened. Their island was in the far south, and the tragedy had hit them first, and it had hit them hard. Baru and his dozen companions had sailed south on that day, and Tasuki didn't need to be told they had been devoured first, and his father was never coming back home.
The sea that was once their livelihood had become the greatest terror. The sea had given birth to something other than fish. Out of the water, they had come in hundreds, if not hundreds of thousands, creatures so fierce and hungry and unstoppable. Monsters. The power dynamic had changed in an instant; the human race was no longer the hunter, but they hunted.
"Mother, don't leave, please!" his pathetic voice echoed in his ears as he screamed and begged his mother. Tara, his mother, with a fearful look, had just dumped him in a boat that was filled with two dozen other kids who had tears in their eyes. A few were stunned to silence, perhaps from the horrors they had witnessed.
"Tasuki men don't cry; mother will be on the next boat." Tara smiled bitterly as the boat got pushed away from the shore. Tasuki was young, but even he wasn't stupid enough to believe his mother's white lie. The tragedy had almost eaten half of the small island, and this was the last boat. The men had gone south to fish, and the mothers watched the children get on the boat to head north.
"Please!! Noooo!!" Tasuki cried miserably, a sense of helplessness deep in his throat like no other. It was all he could do not to jump into the water and swim back to his mother's arms, or perhaps it was because a set of thin hands held onto him. A girl, maybe a year older than him, with an unreadable expression, had him in a tight grasp, perhaps reading his thoughts to jump back into the water. That didn't stop him from struggling, and it was surprising how the thin hands had such strength to keep him in check. Then he saw them, out of the tree line they appeared, dark like night, their mouths dripping with blood, eyes red as night. The screams of the women and the reminders of men and children who hadn't got space on the boat filled the air. Fear was tangible in that moment, so thick it made it impossible to breathe. Tasuki didn't notice he had gone rigid as he watched what he feared most happen. The monster was upon his mother.
"Watch…!!" The warning died in his throat when the creature opened its mouth and bit his mother's head clean off. The world came to a stop then. Reality and illusion merged for him in that moment, and something in his head shut down and went dark. He could never be the same again. The image of gore and violence stuck in his mind like a mantra. Playing over and over.